Only Words
by Reigen Doki
Summary: It's cliché to say words will never hurt me. A look at how Jim and Spock's lives are't so different...and neither are they.


**Don't own.**

**A look at how the infamous Captain and Commander aren't so different.**

… … .. . .. … …

Little James sat on the bench in the police station, absentmindedly kicking his legs back and forth. He'd almost managed to escape twice, but he hadn't really been trying. Mostly because it was uncomfortable. The police had bandaged his scraped up hands, but no one thought to check his rib, which had cracked when he leapt from the car. Those pains were nothing new.

It wasn't like he hadn't faced worse.

Car doors intentionally slammed on his arms. Thrown against the side of the car. Skull smashed into the windshield. He was used to the broken bones and bruises.

When a tall man walked in, Jim froze in his motions.

They hadn't called Sam.

Or even his mother.

Of all the people, _this_ man was the one the expected to take care of him? To collect him impartially?

"We've got your adopted son, Jim back here. He's a little beat up, but nothing too bad." The officer said, directing the man back to where James sat very still.

Maybe, if he didn't move, the other man wouldn't attack.

"Jim?" The man hissed his question. "I only have one son. George."

James let his eyes fall closed, even as the police officer ignored the statement. That's right. He was nobody's kid. He was the baby who shouldn't have even bothered surviving. He was the reject that didn't fit anywhere.

And that stung more than any dirt road under his hands and took his breath away like no broken ribs ever could.

… .. .

Little Spock sat perfectly ridged outside the elder's office. He was resigned to be scolded once again for his impetuous actions. The trip to the doctor could wait until he had received his reprimand. The broken skin along his jaw and cheekbone were unattended, bleeding freely, but his right arm was carefully splinted to refrain from further damaging the fracture. It was a better state of affairs than his last fight.

It wasn't like he was unaccustomed to the doctor leaving small bruises or split lips unhealed while still fixing major damage.

The people he sparred with were always larger than him, intent on causing physical pain, rather than practicing their forms. The fist fights outside of class were often quick and he would generally claim victory with only a broken hand and facial abrasions.

The man who walked in wasn't the elder he was expecting.

He'd rather speak to his father.

Even his mother's scolds would have been better.

Out of all the elders only _this_ man had a voice about Spock's lineage. And he would not let it lay silent at a time like this.

"You attacked another boy for his comments." The man looked him over.

Spock stiffened ever so slightly, raising his chin up a little higher. Maybe if he looked proud enough the other man would send him away in disgust without another word.

"It is understandable that your disadvantage should be the cause of your problems. A true Vulcan would learn to control even their human impulses though."

Spock closed his eyes, nodding stiffly. He was imperfect. Nothing could be more contradictory than human and Vulcan. He was the half-breed tarnish on Vulcan's flawless record. He was no better than a Romulan.

That stung at his eyes like no well placed punch could and twisted him with pain like no broken bone ever would.

… .. .

Honestly, he should have expected to get hit. He was in a bar, after all. Glasses broken over his head, chairs broken under his back, a few bones broken in the mix. That stung a little, but it wasn't his first bar brawl. Jim scowled across the table at the man who had instigated it, ignoring the threatening note in the proprietor's voice as he chided the two. He gave as good as he got, and broken bones could be damned.

Why did people even want to hit him all the time anyway?

"Look." Jim slid into answering a question he barely heard. "I was just defending myself. For once I didn't say anything."

"Stupid prick." The man hissed, causing Jim to laugh.

"Seriously? That's the best you've got?"

"I don't need better dealing with someone like you."

"Someone like me?" Jim asked incredulously. "What have you got over me?"

"I don't have to ride on my daddy's coattails to get somewhere. Face it Kirk all you are is a mirror little image of your dear old dad. Nobody had any interest in you once you stopped being like him. People will never see you when they look at you so you get by on your dad's fame." He spat venomously, smugly superior.

Jim closed his eyes, standing with only the slightest waver that could be attributed to too much alcohol. He was right. He was just his father's shadow.

He desperately preferred fists to conversations. Fists couldn't talk. Couldn't tell you things you'd rather not hear.

Words cut deeper.

… .. .

In all honesty, he wasn't expecting to get hit. Who attacks another student randomly on academy grounds? A book bag to the back of his neck, a punch to the solar plexus, a few broken bones and some broken skin when it was all said and done. The pain was nothing. His curiosity left him staring at the now detained man though. He wasn't about to just walk away, excused by security or not.

He hadn't lost his cool yet though.

"What are your motivations? What did you intend to accomplish by attacking me?" Spock met his eyes calmly, devoid of reaction.

"Fucking Vulcan." He spat, causing Spock to arch an eyebrow.

"That was not an answer to my inquiry."

"You should know damn well why I attacked."

"I do not find myself privy to the thoughts of irrational beings."

"A freak like you isn't welcome here. You think just because you're half human you know what it means to give a damn. People don't want your god damn Vulcan wit either. You're too Vulcan to have a heart and too human to have their smarts. People will never see a competent officer when they look at you. You're just a freak show." He snarled, looking damn superior as he was drug off.

Spock let his eyes fall shut, taking breaths just a little deeper than normally necessary that could be attributed to his exertion. The words held too much truth. He was a freak.

He preferred isolation to conversation. Isolation didn't lead to dialogue. Didn't say things you didn't want to admit.

Words just stung.

… .. .

Shore leave for the commanding pair wasn't like it was for the other officers and crew members. While even the officers had duties to attend to, most of their time was spent freely. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, however, spent most of their time in a bureaucratic mess. That meant that, while most everyone else was enjoying free time on the town, they were stuck in meetings at Starfleet.

Coming out of their meeting, they happened along a crowed, gathered around one loud mouthed fellow.

"Seriously. What's so great about those two. The great _Captain_ Kirk and _Commander_ Spock? One of them got promoted to monopolize on his dad's good name and the other got promoted because he's an endangered species."

The pair exchanged looks a moment before continuing on. Even knives dulled after too much use.

"Their whole crew is manned by people who don't deserve the positions they got. Their Communications Officer was teacher's pet and their CMO was an old school time fuck buddy."

Without glancing at the other to see if they were doing the same, Jim and Spock both began pushing through the crowd. No one insulted their crew.

"Their pilot is the Commander's sparring partner and the Chief engineer is the Captain's drinking mate. They only got their positions because those two wanted them to have it. Not because they earned it through hard work."

"I doubt you are aware of the skill and effort necessary to man the Enterprise." Spock interjected, now face to face with the man.

"If it isn't the leaders of the nepotism band themselves." He sneered, curling his lips back in disdain.

"Say what you want about myself and Mr. Spock, but leave the rest of our crew out of it." Jim knew he had to include Spock in that statement, as much as he'd rather it was all on him.

"Hey. Maybe you two can answer something for me. I can't place how that little seventeen year old punk you call a navigator got his place on the ship. Did he screw an admiral or one of you?"

Neither of them was really sure which blow knocked the man out. Kirk's full powered shot to the face snapped his head back and likely broke bone. Spock's nearly full power shot to the diaphragm shocked most of the organs around the strike and definitely broke multiple ribs.

When it was all said and done, Jim found himself sitting outside the admirals' office, fidgeting smugly in his seat. Next to him, Spock sat perfectly straight. Jim's knuckles were split, his nose broken, and blood dripped down from his hair line. Spock's hand was broken, his jaw cleanly torn, and his eye was swelling shut. Pike took one look at them and shook his head.

"Maybe Archer should talk to you two."

"He insulted my crew." Jim defended tensely.

"I believe the common phrase is 'asking for it'." Spock quirked the brow over his undamaged eye.

Jim was grinning at him. "Hell yeah. See?"

Pike shook his head, leaving the room a moment to discuss something with the other Admirals.

"We are sure to receive severe reprimand for our actions." Spock offered when his Captain's grin only grew.

"Totally worth it."

"Indeed."

… … .. . .. … …

**A bit of a strange look at the pair, but fun all the same. These little one shots are actually really fun to write because I don't have to spend forever on plot.**


End file.
